All That Glitters
by Arthur Hansen
Summary: On a fateful Halloween, Harry Potter's parents fall to Voldemort and Harry becomes the Boy-Who-Lived. The affair attracts unwanted attention and the course of Harry's life is changed for the… stranger?
1. Past

This was a challenge that Joe Hundredaire (AKA alienyouthct here) offered on his Holly, Phoenix, Diamond, and Elm... after some feedback. I decided to take a small stab at some of the plot holes and removed some of the OCs that he was putting in. This is most likely as complete as I'll go at this point.

* * *

_**October 31, 1991**_

* * *

"The source is over there. Stop the car."

Her driver obeyed without question, a useful quality when one wanted to stay in her employ and Emma Grace Frost opened her door; pulling her white fur coat tighter around her body as she emerged into the chilly October air of the English countryside. She'd been enjoying a glass of the scotch she'd acquired during the Highlands portion of her British voyage while the car rolled down the A399, heading back towards civilization after visiting the family of another prospective student for her school. Then a chilling, wordless psychic scream had torn through the astral plane and a paler than usual Emma had ordered the car to divert down the B3358 as she searched for the very close cause.

Godric's Hollow. An interesting name for a town. Strangely enough, it hadn't appeared on any of the signs on the highway that advertised other approaching settlements. As she barked terse directions at her driver, a side street had called out to her and they'd turned right onto it. A red sign with gold letters proclaiming 'Welcome to Godric's Hollow' had greeted them, followed by a peculiar mix of extreme old and modern cookie cutter houses.

Her first thought had been an attack of some sort. There were enough malevolent entities out there that you had to be careful. It would be prudent to inform someone in case she was attacked.

_'Charles, I've detected a mutant near me. It could be a trap, so do keep an 'ear' out for me just to be on the safe side. I'll be bringing the mutant with me to the Savage Land, of course."_ Part of her agreement with Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier. Damn them. She felt his faint reply of acknowledgement.

And now here she was and the scene in front of her precluded her first suspicion. Staring at the still smoking house in front of her, Emma decided that further architectural analysis could wait. She could already feel the inquisitive minds beginning to make their way towards the house and with a mutant child inside, she wanted to investigate and be gone before they got there. Especially if they were the cause of… whatever had happened here. She of all people knew what could happen when adults reacted poorly to a child with special abilities.

Entering the house, Emma had frowned at the sheer destruction before her. A single powered individual run amok was looking less and less likely; a battle had clearly been fought here. As she wandered further into the house, she was given a reminder as to why she ought not to rely entirely on her telepathic powers as she stumbled over the corpse of a man with wild black hair and wide hazel eyes staring through his slightly askew glasses. Scowling as she rolled her ankle to shake off the discomfort, Emma looked around the living room and, failing to find any other people -alive or otherwise- headed for the stairs.

There was someone alive up here and rather than waste her limited time exploring the other rooms, Emma let her telepathic powers guide her directly to the proper place through the shadows. This room was just as bad as the living room and home to another casualty: a green-eyed redhead she presumed to be the wife of the man downstairs with her eyes staring at the ceiling. And lying in a crib, externally silent but mind a whirl of noise, was their child.

Emma had never seen anything like it, but had heard whispered by Charles in muted horror. Inside the mind of the child, a dark entity resided, clawing at the boy's soul as it tried to establish a foothold. But incredibly enough, this infant had the mental fortitude to fight the possession, lashing out at the being with a power Emma had never seen or felt before. On one side of the astral battlefield was an amorphous black blob, held at bay by a glowing white stag that continually charged the blob, driving it back with its antlers. With the boy distracted by his battle, Emma easily entered his immature mind and accessed his short-term memory…

_"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside now!"_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead! Not Harry! Please, have mercy… have mercy…"_

_A shrill laughing…_

_A burst of green light…_

…so someone had come here, killed the boy's parents with his powers and then attempted to kill off this child only to be disintegrated when the boy's own power lashed out and saved him. Fascinating. Pulling out of his memories, Emma returned to where the entity and the boy were doing battle, noting that he was slowly losing ground and the entity was beginning to take hold.

There would be none of that. This child was coming with her, she'd decided, and she couldn't afford to bring back any mental hitchhiker that could potentially infect her weaker students. Maneuvering around the astral landscape so she could approach the being from behind, Emma raised her hands and extended tendrils of white psionic power. Wrapping them around the being, she pulled it back away from Harry before transforming them into coils of razor sharp barbed wire. A quick flick of her wrists saw the blackness torn into a hundred pieces, a haunting scream echoing through the mindscape before silence descended. The stag eyed her for a moment before lowering his head and disappearing, Emma pulling herself free of the empty whiteness a moment later.

"Hey! Who are you! What are you doing with Harry?"

Emma's head snapped up, whirling around as she cursed herself for becoming so involved with the boy's mind that she lost touch with the outside world. A wild-eyed man with black hair was standing in the doorway, pointing a… stick at her? How very odd, though it was hard to tell for sure in the darkness and shadows.

"I don't know who you are, lady, but you've got five seconds to back away from my godson before-"

The man never managed to complete his threat. Reaching out with her mind, Emma slammed herself into his consciousness with the subtlety of a tank and knocked him out with a psychic blast, sending him crumpling to the floor for a few minutes. Turning back to Harry, Emma scooped the infant up into her arms. Before she could even take a step towards the door, she felt more minds appearing all over the property. In a peculiar bit of serendipity, whoever was teleporting these people in completely avoided the road, giving her a clear path by which to retreat.

While it was far from her preferred exit strategy…

* * *

_'Incoming.'_

The one word mental message was the only warning Tempest McClain received before a section of the house's second floor exploded outward. A glittering figure sailed through the air, hitting the ground with a thunderous crash that drove her to one knee before rising and sprinting for the car. Tempest turned the key, the car roaring to life as her boss wrenched the left rear door open, diving inside and yanking the door shut. "Drive."

Having experienced weirder while in the employ of the White Queen, Tempest didn't even blink before putting the car into gear and roaring off down the road. "Were you successful in finding what you came for, m'lady?"

"I found something."

Tempest shot glances at her boss through the rear view mirror, watching as the again flesh and blood Emma awkwardly wiggled out of her coat and wrapped a now fussing baby in it.

"What it entails... and what secrets he holds remains to be discovered."

* * *

_**November 3, 1991**_

* * *

"He's not a psi talent." Essex was sitting in the normal front 'office' of his building. The grim concrete effidice in the shadows of a dark copse of trees that was reputed to be haunted. The warehouse was anything mundane looking but once you got past its facade. He was wearing a very nice business suit and leaned forward across his desk as his computer showed a DNA strand with parts highlighted.

Looking up from the reports she'd been reading through, Emma's brow furrowed. "That's impossible. I told you what I saw."

Nathaniel Essex shrugged, thrusting a bundle of papers at her. Emma flipped through them, dismissing them when she recognized that she wasn't anywhere near educated enough in genetics to make heads or tails of what was there.

"He's not a psi talent. He's not a mutant. He doesn't even carry a latent X-gene that could be artificially activated. He's a complete flatscan as far as I can tell."

Glancing over at the white and gold pram containing what she had thought would someday be her greatest student, Emma sighed. "So now what, Essex? Apart from you telling me 'I told you so' and charging me for the comprehensive tests you said were a waste of time when the simple test came up negative?" An intense frustration was building within her; tightly controlled lest Essex take even greater advantage of her misstep.

"I told you so." Emma narrowed her eyes and Nathaniel offered her a smile full of sharp teeth before holding up a second folder. "Moving on… I have a proposal for you. I have a rather questionable experiment I wish to run. You have a child you are disappointed with, favorable genetic material and yourself in a slightly sticky situation. Why don't we make a deal?" The pale man with raven-black hair knew he had surmised correctly from her cryptic comments when she had arrived the first time. She could not take a Flat Scan with her to the Savage Land. Magneto would not allow it.

One blonde brow arched and Emma gestured for him to continue.

"I now have the ability to analyze a person's genes and determine which material came from which parent for the most part. Erik has been after me to begin treating followers of his who have inherited undesirable traits from their parents… mental illness, chiefly, but there are a host of other conditions that I could potentially cure by way of…"

Not particularly in the mood to listen to the questionably sane scientist pat himself on the back all morning, Emma rolled her eyes and gestured for him to get on with it. "While Harry and I are still relatively young, Essex?"

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed at her before he took a slow breath, face smoothing out once more. "Very well. I wish to sample your DNA, combine it with what I believe is the DNA of Harry's mother -hers is more favorable than the lad's father for an experiment like this- and then grow a body from that combination to see what happens. If the result is acceptable, I will transfer Harry's consciousness into it and digitally insert records into relevant databases so that your new blood kin exists legally as well. If whatever power you claim he possesses came from his parents, he will likely still have it, combined with your own formidable abilities." Well, a close approximation, of course. You were never identical unless you did a clone. And even those were not identical. She did want the 'abilities' of the child, after all.

"Interesting. I have only one question for you." While her interactions with Essex had been limited to official business for Charles and Erik before this, she knew how the man operated based on what the two men had told her. "What do you want from me in return? Other than temporary use of my DNA and Harry?"

Rather than look insulted, Nathaniel only offered one of his shark like grins at her question. "Jean Grey. Or her DNA, at any rate."

Emma rolled her eyes. Everyone wanted that little brat these days. Charles had taken a personal interest in her, removing the redhead from Emma's general telepathy classes for personal instruction. Erik was even 'lowering' himself to work with her, using his own trials and tribulations with mastering magnokinesis as a base for instructing her in the use of her telekinesis. And now Nathaniel too wanted a piece of her. Well fine. If it got her what she wanted, she'd chop the damn brat's hand off and bring it in a box. "Agreed. Payment on delivery of the newest Frost."

"Before I begin."

"A quarter of a million now and Grey's DNA when I take delivery." Nathaniel opened his mouth but Emma cut him off with the wave of a hand. "I won't be returning to the Savage Land for a few more days. If you start now, by the time I've flown down, checked in, and returned for my 'follow up visit' with a student I'll claim to have had a favorable meeting with, you'll be done and I'll have what you want. Agreed?"

Inclining his head, Nathaniel spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Very well. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take my samples and then you can say goodbye to Harry…"

* * *

_**November 22, 1991**_

* * *

Watching the man colloquially known as 'Mister Sinister' push a pram across his laboratory towards her was a strange and strangely amusing sight that Emma would treasure for some time to come. Then he reached her and it took Emma only a fraction of a second to realize that she had been double-crossed. Shooting to her feet, Emma's hands curled into fists as she glared at Nathaniel. "What the hell is this?"

"I apologize for not warning you about this particular side effect. I didn't realize until after you left that you might not realize for yourself that it was an inevitable change. But, ignoring the physical differences, your child is perfectly healthy and possesses an X-gene identical to your own in every way." Reaching down, Nathaniel ran his fingers through the child's blonde hair, eliciting a noise of distress as the infant squirmed away from his touch. "Perhaps you might want to call her Harriette from now on?"

Emma cooed softly as she lifted the unhappy girl from the pram, bringing her new daughter up to rest against her chest in an attempt to calm her. As she bounced Harry -who would most definitely need a new name now- up and down gently, Emma closed her eyes. Nobody save Tempest even knew of Harry fully, so there'd be no change to explain away; everyone in the Savage Land would be meeting Harry for the first time in this form. And, at least assuming he was telling the truth, Nathaniel had come through on his end of the bargain. He'd just… changed a bit more of Harry than Emma had anticipated. Opening her eyes, she sighed. "I take it you've held off on the records because of this?" Nathaniel nodded and Emma stared down at the girl that had once been Harry, watching as she looked around with wide green eyes, the sight of Nathaniel causing her to turn and burrow in against Emma's chest. "Very well. Call her Hazel. Hazel Sophie Frost. It's about time someone did something to make people remember that name."

"I could recommend a fellow doctor if you want to discuss those mother issues of yours, Emma darling." His smile would have done a shark quite proud.

"Shut up, Essex." That was disconcerting how much he knew of her. And knowledge was dangerous. Shifting to hold Hazel with one arm, Emma brushed the soft blonde hair back and frowned at the scar that still stared up at her from the child's forehead. "Did you disfigure my daughter's forehead? Because correct me if I'm wrong, but imperfections like this should have been left behind when you grew the new body."

Nodding, Nathaniel attempted to approach the pair, only to stumble backwards when Hazel grunted and shook one tiny fist at him. Two pairs of wide eyes stared at the infant and in her head, Emma crowed in victory. She was no telekine. Whatever Hazel had just done, it hadn't come from the Frost half of her family tree. She wasn't crazy after all. There was something special about this child of hers.

"Fascinating. I think I'll be spending more time analyzing young Har… Hazel's genes after you leave. As for the scar, it wasn't there until I performed the consciousness transfer. Then she began wailing like she was being tortured and as I watched, the scar slowly etched itself into her forehead. I could do nothing to stop it, the cosmetics I sent my assistant out to purchase dissolve when applied and while I'm no Hollywood plastic surgeon, I know enough about cosmetic surgery to repair a simple scar. It would hold for mere hours before the process repeated itself and the scar reappeared on her forehead… just as painfully, might I add." It was of mere academic interest to Essex, but he had no time to properly investigate it. For now.

Emma scowled; she'd been pondering using the former as a temporary fix if she'd returned to find that Nathaniel's experiments had failed with the latter as a long-term solution. She eyed Hazel before sighing. What to do, what to do? Hmmph. By all accounts, wearing white after Labor Day was a major fashion faux pas, as was wearing nothing but one color, but neither of those 'rules' slowed her down. Hazel would just have to wear bangs. And if they weren't popular by the time Hazel had to start making public appearances at her side? She would be another trend breaker, just like her mother.

Coughing to get her attention, Nathaniel's red eyes flicked down to Emma's hips, staring pointedly at the sizable bulge running along her left hip. Sighing, she withdrew a pair of glass tubes in a cryokit from the pocket of her white leather pants with her free hand and placed them on the counter. "Hair and blood. I wasn't sure which would be more useful."

"Blood. Thank you for your consideration. Please keep me in mind for all your future questionable scientific needs." Smiling cheekily, Nathaniel pocketed the two vials and gestured to Hazel's pram. "You can show yourself out, I imagine?" Emma didn't even bother to dignify that with a response, gently depositing Hazel in her pram and offering Nathaniel a parting glare for his cheek before stomping off towards the front of the warehouse he was currently holed up in.

He was already rechecking a screen with the DNA helix, then looked at the new vial. His grin turned positively malicious.

Waiting for her beside the white Bentley Mulsanne parked at the curb, Tempest closed the newspaper she was reading and tucked it under one arm as Emma approached. Her eyes roamed over Emma for a second before she raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Is everything okay, m'lady?"

Emma nodded as she brought the pram to a stop, reaching in and bringing Hazel to rest against her chest again as Tempest broke the pram down and stored it in the trunk. As the younger blonde came back around to open the right rear door for Emma, she turned to let Hazel see Tempest. "Tempest, meet my daughter Hazel Sophie Frost. Hazel, meet your new Aunt Tempest. She's going to look after you when I'm busy."

"Hello, Hazel. It's nice to mee…" Tempest leaned in, reaching in with a finger to poke at the infant's stomach, only to go stumbling back just as Nathaniel had. Worse, in her case; Tempest had the misfortune of tripping over a crack in the sidewalk and falling onto her ass. "What the fu…"

Clearing her throat, Emma narrowed her eyes at her personal assistant. "Ahem. There are young ears present, Tempest." She ignored the girl's giggle from below her chin.

Tempest blushed as she clambered back to her feet. "Yes, m'lady. But… what just happened? I thought she was a flatscan who was going to get your powers? Did Master Essex do something to give her extra powers? Is she a telepath and a telekine like Miss Grey?"

"In a fashion. She's got my telepathy and transmorph powers, at least according to Sinister, but… well, you're the second person she's shoved away today. Evidently, the power that I saw on Halloween and Sinister claims doesn't exist… exists." Emma eyed her new daughter; they'd have to do something about the girl's antisocial tendencies and quick. As cute as it was when it was happening to a man Emma disliked or her young assistant, Emma knew Erik wouldn't find it anywhere near as amusing to be pushed around by a baby and neither would some of his Savage Land followers. "You're not going to ask the obvious?"

Looking from Emma to Hazel and back, Tempest offered a faint shrug. "You told me that the new body was going to be a combination of Harry's mother and you, right?" Emma nodded. "One woman plus one woman equals one woman. Where would the boy bits come from?" An extremely simplistic version of what Emma had come to realize herself, but accurate enough. "Besides, think of it this way, m'lady: you'll be much better equipped to raise a daughter than a son. After all, you've already lived through everything she'll go through."

Emma nodded. Tempest had a point. One that hadn't even occurred to her, strangely enough. Then again, she hadn't exactly had the time to indulge in deep thoughts about the situation. "Door." Tempest jumped to open the door for Emma and the blonde slid into the car, placing Hazel in the - unsurprisingly - white car seat before buckling herself in. Tempest took her seat behind the wheel and as the engine growled to life, Emma opened a small white cooler resting in the middle of the back seat, extracting a bottle of scotch and a glass with three ice cubes conveniently resting in the bottom. "Onward to Heathrow, Tempest. The sooner we get back to the Savage Land, the better. I positively cannot wait to let my hair down and…" She trailed off as she looked up to find the woman staring at her oddly in the rear view mirror. "What?"

"While it's not really my place to say anything, m'lady, should you really be drinking while…"

"I'm not pregnant, Tempest, I'm the mother of an adopted baby that became a test tube baby that was then growth accelerated. I can drink if I damn well please." Raising her glass, Emma took a large pull of the fiery liquid to demonstrate. "That's why I pay you: so I can drink and still get places. Now kindly remember why I employ you and return your eyes to the road."

"Yes, m'lady."

* * *

_**September 1, 2001**_

* * *

Yawning, Hazel Frost blinked as she stared up at the ceiling. A starscape? The ceiling of her bedroom didn't have a… oh, wait. Shaking off the fuzziness of sleep, she sat up and looked around at the lavish hotel room. Right, she wasn't at home anymore. Her family had come to London a week ago, taking up residence in a series of posh hotel suites so she could explore the city a bit and acquire her school supplies before heading off to this mysterious 'Hogwarts' place.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While Hazel had always known she was slightly different from the rest of the mutants inhabiting the Savage Land, managing to do all sorts of odd little things that weren't the least bit related to her mutant powers once they manifested, she hadn't seen that one coming. She was a witch. Supposedly. A real witch, and boy had that pissed Wanda Lehnsherr off to no end when she'd heard.

Sliding out of bed, Hazel grabbed the white silk dressing gown she'd thought to lay over the back of the nearby desk's chair the night before and padded down to the end of the bed. Kneeling down in front of the over-sized wood and metal trunk -and Lordy had she gotten odd looks from the bellhop for that one- she removed the necklace she was wearing and grabbed the key hanging from it, sticking it into a lock with a snowflake painted beneath it and turning it to the left. The lock clicked and the trunk opened, displaying a wide variety of clothing both magical and muggle, all white.

What else would one expect from the eldest daughter of Emma Grace Frost, White Queen of the Savage Land and the Hellfire Club?

Not sure exactly what the customs of the school were in regards to uniforms on the first day, Hazel decided to wear one of hers rather than casual clothes. With her luck, if she wore something else they'd be required to change into their uniforms in mid-ride and she had no desire to try her luck at dressing and undressing aboard a rocking train. Digging through the trunk, she began placing articles of clothing on the end of the bed: a white button-front blouse, a white vest featuring a badge with the crest of Hogwarts -which featured some sort of curious magic that would transform it to match her house once she was 'sorted' at school, according to the seamstress at Madam Malkin's- and a black tie that would likewise transform to match the coloring of her house, a pair of white slacks, and white socks. A pair of white leather loafers were left sitting beside her trunk as she grabbed a white bra and panties from the far right side of the trunk and headed for the bathroom.

Stripping down and stepping into the shower, Hazel turned up the water as hot as she could stand it, closing her eyes and letting it wash over her upturned face as she thought about what was to come. Harry Potter was a name nobody had used for her since… well, she'd become a her. Now she was returning to the land of her birth, the land of her birth parents and to a past she had long ago abandoned.

And the best part was, they had no idea 'she' was coming. Even though their method of delivery -and who was the genius who'd thought up sending mail by slow-flying, pellet regurgitating birds?- could figure out that Harry Potter and Hazel Frost were one and the same enough for her to receive letters from the school, someone had evidently failed to inform the staff there about her transformation. All her letters had come addressed to 'Harry Potter' and she'd declined to correct them. They'd find out soon enough… when she arrived at Hogwarts. A bit mean to be sure, but it was their fault for not doing their jobs right, she reasoned.

Pulling back out of the spray, Hazel blinked the water out of her eyes before reaching for one of the bottles of shampoo they'd brought from home. Not that the hotel wasn't well stocked with all manner of products in miniature bottles, but she really did prefer the lavender scented shampoo, conditioner, and body wash she had made for her in the Savage Land. A nice floral scent without being overpowering, and the organic products were far better for her hair and skin than the harsh chemicals flatscans preferred. Squirting a dollop of the purple shampoo into her hand, Hazel began working it through her thick blonde curls as she pondered what her future held.

While her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ remained unopened and unread at the bottom of the second compartment of her trunk, she'd heard enough in the last week by eavesdropping to have a vague idea of how the student body at Hogwarts operated. At the beginning of each year, the incoming students were sorted by means unknown into one of four houses, named after the founders of the school and reflecting different traits: Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the just and loyal, Ravenclaw for the clever, and Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious.

Fortunately or unfortunately for her, she was rather certain she was Slytherin bound. Not that she particularly minded; cunning and ambition were positive qualities in her book. But Hazel had also heard the derision with which the name Slytherin was spoken… the house was almost universally reviled by the other three-quarters of the wizarding world, supposedly the birthplace of all dark wizards and witches. How would they react, Hazel wondered, when their precious savior ended up there?

Oh yes, she was aware of that quaint little fact. _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ had contained the story of her defeat of 'You-Know-Who', among other interesting… well, Hazel had a hard time thinking of them as anything more than fairy tales. After all, if they actually thought she had defeated some incredibly evil wizard back when she was still crapping in diapers, how accurate could the rest of the book be?

Stepping back under the showerhead, Hazel let the water run through her hair, washing the shampoo away. In all honesty, she could have done without the famous name. She got enough of that when dealing with flatscans because of her mother's wealth and in the Savage Land because of Emma's position. Sadly, though, she could think of no way to get 'Hazel Frost' on the school's rolls apart from showing up and claiming her past as her present.

She wasn't looking forward to it, either. Rubbing conditioner into her hair, Hazel paused and shuddered as she thought back to her two encounters with the creepy old man who'd sold her a wand. His reverence regarding her hideous facial disfigurement had been more than a little disturbing, almost but not quite eclipsing his excitement at selling her a wand that was somehow connected to the wand of her parents' murderer. Claiming it had been a two step process, actually; the damn thing had exploded in her hand the first time she'd waved it for him, her quick reflexes and gem-like form being the only things that saved her from severe burns. After that little incident, the wand's phoenix feather core had been stripped of the fragments of charred holly clinging to it and resheathed in eleven inches of rich, reddish brown English elm.

Still, if Ollivander's behavior was anything to go by, Hazel wasn't looking forward to her time in the wizarding world in the least.

A familiar presence approached the bathroom door and Hazel turned, leaning back to dip her head back under the water as three quick raps sounded. "Yes, Vi? And before you ask for the thirty-seventh time, I know it's you because I'm a telepath, Einstein." Although she had to admit her telepathic powers were just starting to manifest to any really _useful_ ability. Luckily she had her mother to train her in her new, burgeoning abilities. At least it was better than when she had spontaneously mimicked her mother's diamond transformation.

"You know, I still say it's not fair of you to make fun of me for things I think because I'm half-asleep but aren't stupid enough to say out loud." The door opened just wide enough to admit a slim, purple-haired girl, Violette Nowak stumbling over to the room's sink and splashing some cold water on her face to help shake off the remnants of her grogginess. "Are you almost done? We…"

"…have to be there at 11:00 AM. Leaving the hotel no later than 10:00 AM. It was 8:13 AM when you rolled out of the bed and came in here. I could take another forty-five minutes in here and still be out in time for you to have an hour of your own. Crud. Loofa?" A white puff came sailing over the top of the shower stall and hit her in the face. Hazel scowled at her attendant's giggles, catching it before it hit the tile floor. "Thank you, serving girl 'o mine. You may go now."

The frosted glass of the shower kept Hazel from properly seeing Vi but the exasperated sigh often accompanied a roll of the purple-haired mutant's eyes and so Hazel felt safe in assuming she was probably the recipient of both. "Yes, Mistress. Right away, Mistress. Seriously, though, I'm going to go put in the call for breakfast for us and the rugrats. I know I'm sticking with British, Laurel's keeping to her carnivore thing and the quints are a mixed bag. Continental or British for you?"

Pausing, Hazel turned to eye her attendant as best she could. "Do you really have to ask, Vi?"

"Right, right, Continental. Girlish figure and all that crap."

Squirting a large glob of body wash onto her loofa, Hazel closed the cap on the bottle and hurled it up and over the top of the shower stall, grinning when Vi let out an indignant squeak and dodged, the bottle hitting the floor with a clatter.

"Brat. I'm just saying, the good parts on women are made of at least some fat. It wouldn't kill you to eat eggs and bacon once in a while instead of fruit and brioche."

Scrubbing at her arms, Hazel shrugged even though Vi turning away to pick up the bottle of body wash meant her gesture went unseen. She tended to emote when talking telepathically to people in other rooms, too. Old habits just died hard. "And you could stand to eat a bit more fruit and a bit less fatty, greasy junk, especially with how much you like to wear skirts. The only reason Mother isn't on Laurel for her eating habits is because she burns more calories than she takes in."

The body wash came sailing back into the shower stall to hit Hazel on the head. "There's nothing wrong with my thighs. And just for that, I'm going to order you the same thing I'm eating for breakfast. And if you don't like it, you can go hungry."

Rubbing the top of her head, Hazel scowled as Vi sniffed and stalked out of the bathroom. Like hell would she be eating a greasy English breakfast. Someone was looking for a free one-way ticket to Lobotomyville. As she let the water run over her, washing the suds away, Hazel realized she wouldn't have it any other way. While Emma couldn't understand why Hazel allowed Vi so much freedom, Hazel in turn couldn't understand how her mother tolerated having such a mindless yes-woman stuck to her butt. Given Vi was a constant fixture in her life and would be for the foreseeable future, Hazel found it easier to treat the girl as a close friend as opposed to a Blackberry with a pulse.

Then again, her mother often preferred the vinegar approach while she was more of a honey…

Turning off the water, Hazel slid the shower door open just far enough to find one of the two towels she'd laid out for herself, giving herself a quick rub down before wrapping it around her body. The second went around her head, helping leech water out of her mass of wet curls as she opened the bathroom door and reentered the bedroom. Seven heads turned to look at her and Hazel raised a brow. "Since when was my bedroom the official family dining room?"

"Something came for you. Knocked on my window." Laurel Frost nodded in the direction of the identical quintuplets, who were piled on Hazel's bed like a clump of kittens. "They followed me over when I came to bring it to you."

Bringing what, Hazel wondered to herself.

Then Laurel pulled her hand out from behind her back, a very dead owl impaled on her twin bone claws, a box tied across both its legs. "Sorry. It kinda attacked me and… yeah."

Sighing, Hazel began mentally setting aside galleons to send to Flourish and Blotts as restitution. A good owl was expensive and the one stuck to Laurel's claws looked particularly sturdy. Fifty galleons; better safe than sorry, she decided. And another five for their trouble. "Next time, do us all a favor and just leave the window shut, yeah?"

* * *

_**Later that day, King's Crossing.**_

* * *

As the gleaming, new Bentley Azure came to a stop in front of King's Cross, Hazel waited for Vi to open her door and step out before pushing the seat forward and following. Thanks to the unique magical properties of her luggage, there was only one trunk between the two of them and when Vi returned from just inside the station's front doors with a cart, the pair manhandled the over-sized trunk onto it. Thankfully, she'd opted not to buy a familiar this year; a cat carrier might have gone unquestioned, but a rat habitat or owl cage definitely would have raised eyebrows. And Lord only knew what Laurel might have done to an owl in the last week.

"Hazel."

Pausing, Hazel looked back at her mother, who was in the process of sliding into the front passenger's seat. As much as Hazel would have preferred to have her mother accompany her all the way to the platform, she could understand her mother's desire to avoid the paparazzi and questions by staying outside. The magical world would probably prefer things that way too.

"No matter what they do or say, you are my daughter. Remember that. And Violette... try not to commit any felonies." The purple-haired girl opened her mouth, only to be cut off by Emma. "I don't care if you think you'll get away with them. Behave."

"Yes, Mother." Hazel barely managed to control rolling her eyes in frustration as she tightened her mental defenses.

"Yes, Miss Frost." Vi's tone told Emma that she would consider the order, but would break it if she really felt the need.

With that, Emma nodded to Tempest and the car merged back into traffic, leaving the two girls standing outside the train station with their luggage. Hazel nudged Vi in the ribs and the purple-haired girl rolled her eyes before getting into place behind the cart, pushing it through the front doors of King's Cross. It took the pair a few minutes to make sense of the map and navigate to the secondary building, only to find that.

"I still can't believe that we have to walk through a wall," Vi complained as she pulled their trunk on a cart.

Hazel sniffed, but could only agree. The letter addressed to her former self had included instructions for how to get to Diagon Alley and Platform 9 & ¾'s. It was strange -and something she and her mother had discussed- how these wizards seemed to know some things exceedingly well, but failed to realize her current status. Like the fact that she lived in the fifth upper bedroom of the Frost Tower.

They were slightly early, so only had a little trick in following an older girl and her mother through the wall. The older teen tried not to stare at white robes, but they really stood out here on the platform. Only the adult wizards and witches wore colored robes. If the teens did wear robes, they were uniformly dark.

It only took a few minutes for Vi to get the trunk into the first open compartment near the rear of the brilliant red train. It looked classically mundane enough, if garish, Hazel thought. "So I wonder if we will really make it to Hogwarts today?"

"That's what the letter said," her companion said. She had added a black over-cape to her outfit that almost made her fit in over her 'muggle' clothing. The gauntlets had caught a few people's attention, but they were polite enough not to stare.

About ten minutes before they were supposed to leave, the door opened and interrupted Hazel and Vi's light discussion.

"Um, is there room?" a brown-haired girl with freckles asked.

Hazel nodded her blonde head to her left, which had the open seat next to the door. "Of course."

"Is this your first year?" the new girl asked as she tapped her trunk with her wand. A small smile lit up when the trunk almost leaped up to the top rack on its own. "Father's spellwork was excellent as always."

"Yes, this is my first year," the blonde replied, watching that in interest. "So you can do triggered spells. Interesting."

"Mandy Brocklehurst," the witch said. "That's right. You must be muggle-born then. Which there's nothing wrong with, of course. Just means you have a bit more to learn."

Vi snorted in a very non-dainty way. "Violette Nowak. I think some witches and wizards could learn how to be slightly subtle. Because that sure wasn't out there." She nodded her head heavily enough to knock some of her purple hair out of its bun at the eclectic crowd outside.

"Well, you'll fit in well enough. Though I think your white robes might get you into a spot of trouble." Mandy shrugged as she sat down at their odd clothing and Vi's hair. "I can't place your accent."

"I am Hazel Frost. My mother made sure I had the best comportment tutors to refine my voice," the Frost heir said with a smirk. "It was a bit tiresome, but it does make sure that I don't sound unlettered. Or very American."

The train's last boarding whistle sounded and then with a blast of steam, they started to move.

"So you are actually from across the pond? And you are going to Hogwarts? That's unusual. Salem usually handles things within their own area," Mandy asked curiously.

"We move around a lot and my natural parents went to Hogwarts. And I understand their might be an inheritance. That will probably take a bit to unravel as they died over a decade ago." Hazel shrugged her white-clad shoulders. She was not certain that anything from the Potter's would be worth anything. But there might be some interesting magical item, she supposed.

"Yes, so I see. So which sort of magic do you think you would like to do? I'm very partial to transfiguration and charms. My father would like me to do potions, but warned me that it is hard to get the marks to get your NEWTS in it."

"Newt?" Vi asked curiously. "I know that old witch limerick about eye of newt and all."

"They do have some magical function, but then there's a lot of old magic that hasn't been totally forgotten. Of course, Muggles think its all superstitious nonsense. Which my father says is for the best. Otherwise we'd keep getting pestered like royal court wizards." Mandy changed her voice to mimic a much older man. "Why can't I get a love potion?"

Hazel and Vi shared a surprised look at that. That was not something they had encountered before. "So this wizarding world is shutting out the mundane one because they don't want to be _annoyed_?" Hazel asked finally.

"Exactly."

Vi pursed her lips. "Interesting. You know, that has some similarities to our home situation."

"But back to NEWTS. Those are the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests." Mandy frowned. "They're like A-level's that my mother took. Basically something you need to do well to get a good job after school. So very important."

"That's quite an interesting acronym," Hazel said in a lazy term.

"A bit odd, but I think someone had a bit of humor on it," the half-blood said.

There was a knock at the door and an older witch in black robes opened the door. "Would you like anything off the cart?"

"A couple of chocolate frogs, please. They are fairly safe. Mother packed me some sandwiches, but a treat never hurts," Mandy said.

"I'll get a box of them then," Hazel said after a moment.

"How about you, Vi?"

"I'm good, I think. I packed a few candy and granola bars along with the catered lunch boxes we got from the hotel." The purple haired girl did not seem to worried.

As the older witch was filling their order and taking their wizarding coins, a young blond moved past with his two friends. His cold blue eyes flicked over the occupants, but continued on without missing a beat. His low brow stout companions did not even do more than glance in.

"Thanks, ma'am. Now you have to watch out for the frogs. They like to try to leap away for a few hops before the charm fails. The cards are collectibles," Mandy explained as she pulled out a little box and touched it with the tip of her wand. The frog tried to make a hop for it, but she more than handily caught it.

"There aren't real frogs inside? Oh, thank heavens. You never know," Vi said then sighed. She had been caught in too many pranks at times.

Hazel just snickered at her companions discomfort. She, of course, had been the cause of most of those pranks.

It was not until after their lunch that they did more than talk or some light reading. That was when a young boy knocked on the door. He was a bit pudgy with a mop of blond hair on top. "Excuse me, have you seen a toad?"

"Sorry. No pets here at all." Mandy waited while the other too just shook their head.

They had barely settled back down when the door opened again. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," the bushy-haired girl said abruptly.

"We already told 'Neville' that we have not seen it," the telepath said, getting upset at being interrupted from her conversation. "Shoo."

"Honestly," the girl snapped back. The door slid back a little heavily, slamming shut.

"Pushy girl. I pity the house she is sorted in. Perhaps a consolation fund should be set up?" the Frost scion murmured.

"I'm not contributing. Not like I get a lot of spending money," Vi replied while reading of Hogwarts: A History.

"We'll just have to hope the odds are on our side that we aren't in the same house," Mandy said uncertainly. She then pointedly looked down at Vi's gauntlets. "Armor?"

"Gauntlets that help contain my electricity," Vi replied casually as she flipped a page. This was something that she and Hazel had gone over before. They were not going to hide her mutation nor that she was a mutant. But they were not going to exactly flaunt it in their faces either.

"You're stuck doing accidental magic?" Mandy asked curiously, putting her own book to the side.

"Does that sort of thing happen?" the White scion asked casually.

"There have been stories about wizarding children that seemed 'stuck' in some sort of element- elementalism," Mandy explained, tripping over the longer word. "Almost squibs in some ways, but could control fire or ice naturally. I don't think they have found anyone like that in a while thought."

"Hmm..." Hazel spent a long moment thinking. "So rather like mutants that can only do one thing, but one thing well?"

The non-mutant blinked, then frowned. "You know, that's very possible. I wonder why no one- You're a _mutant?_" she almost shrieked in surprise at Vi.

"Bingo! Electrokinetic. But they are sorta stuck 'on' and I have to use these to control them. Otherwise I keep zapping things and people." The purple-haired girl twirled a long strand of hair. "I have a secondary mutation of purple hair. Like an anime!"

Mandy was studying them both carefully now. "You weren't surprised, of course. Are you a mutant, Hazel?"

"What makes you think that I am?" the white-clad girl asked. She had already put aside her copy of the basic transfiguration.

"Intuition."

"Very good." And it was not telepathic or empathetic, from what the burgeoning telepath could tell. "You do not have a problem with that?"

Mandy replied truthfully, "Not really. I'm sure someone might, but really what are mutant powers except just a different sort of power. I know that the wizarding newspapers debate the situation every once in a while, but they are really just making noise. No one has a real clue about it."

"Interesting."

"So what is your mutant power?" Would she be able to fly, the witch thought to herself.

Hazel just smirked as her skin suddenly turned into a translucent sheen of pale blue-green. "I can transform into a form of living gem-like mineral."

"Oh, that's very stunning. And you don't have any problem controlling it?"

Vi shook her head. "No, she was rather lucky for not having any trouble with it so young."

Hazel _was _fairly young to have as good a control as she did. Most mutants were further along through puberty when their powers manifested. Of course, having her mother help her figure things out had helped quite a bit.

"This is going to be a very interesting year, I think." Mandy looked quite intrigued.

Hazel just grinned as she reverted back to her 'human' form.

* * *

_**Later that evening, Hogsmeade Station.**_

* * *

As the sun was starting to go down, the train started to slow.

"One day. Definitely not a normal train then," the electro-kinetic stated in curiosity.

"Yes, a nice piece of magic to make sure it can make the trip from London in one day, but never arrive before sunset," the half-blood explained happily.

That confused the other two, but they followed Mandy's lead and left their one trunk on the train. Outside in the bustle of black-robed students, a deep voice called out from the tail end of the train station, "Firs' years, this way. Firs' years, this way!" This giant of a man was quite intimidating to most of the student. He was taller than Juggernaut and wider than the blob, but did not actually _look_ fat.

"Mutant?" Vi whispered to her.

"Possibly. Perhaps magic would also explain it. Occam Razor is not quite as sharp as it used to be," Hazel replied. She was a spot of pure white among all the first years as they walked down a path towards the lake.

"Only four to a boat," the bristly-bearded man called out. His beetle-black eyes studied each of them curiously and raised an eyebrow at Hazel and Vi, who both did not fit in properly.

Hazel led her trio to a small coracle which barely sloshed as they sat it in. Even this Hagrid fellow did not cause a problem with the small boat. The boats moved without any apparent motive source across the black lake.

The castle was quite brilliant as it appeared around a hill on the edge of the lake. Vi was quite thrilled, while Hazel tried not to show any interest. They had both been to a few castles thanks to Emma's trips abroad, of course.

"Duck yer heads here," Hagrid warned. It was actually unnecessary for any of the children, but the followed the instructions.

Hazel was not too thrilled with the green smear on her shoulder and tried to clean it off with her hanky as everyone debarked on the torchlit stone dock.

"I don't think that's coming off without some bleach-" Vi was starting to say when Mandy's wand touched the stain as she muttered a word. The stain lifted off and puffed into the air.

"Thank you, Mandy. That sounds like a useful spell," Hazel said as she let a bit of wonder through her facade.

"Dad has been teaching me useful home-spells. He says Hogwarts really doesn't go into those much, but they are far too handy." Mandy got into line as all the First Years followed Hagrid up the stairs.

Up ahead, they heard Hagrid boom out, "The Firs' Years, Professor McGonnagal."

This witch was older with her hair down up tightly, making her look very severe. "Thank you, Hagrid. I am Professor McGonnagal, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts." She hid a sigh to herself as she led them to a waiting room. "Soon you will be sorted into your houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. This will be you home and family while at Hogwarts." Her eyes settled on Hazel for a long moment. "We don't have time for you to change into your Hogwart's robes, miss." With a wave of her wand, McGonnogal charmed the set of white robes black. "Please be sure to use your student's robes in the future. All of you, wait here."

The professor disappeared through a door before Hazel could build up her head of indignation as Vi chuckled.

"Like your mother would have allowed any students at the Massachusetts Academy to not wear the uniform," Vi said in a low voice.

"She should have asked," Hazel snapped back.

"I think she's a bit preoccupied."

"I'm sure you don't really have to fight a troll to get put into one of the houses," a dark-skinned boy said to a morose red-headed boy.

"Are you sure?" the red-head asked.

"Positive."

They had a small disturbance from a group of ghosts that walked through the wall in the back and after exchanging pleasantries with the nearly petrified students, continued on towards the same direction that McGonnagal had disappeared earlier. Just a minute later when the deputy headmistress reappeared, they all trooped into the great hall. It was laid out with a table for each house and then the head table for the teachers.

"It's charmed to look like the outside. Just like Hogwarts: A History explained," the bushy-haired know-it-all said to the red-headed boy that had thought they were going to have to wrestle a troll.

Hazel just rolled her eyes at that. She really hoped that girl did not end up in Slytherin with her.

"Single file," McGonnagal called out. Then she called out the first name.

Mandy was sorted into Ravenclaw, much to her delight.

"Potter, Harry," McGonnogal called out.

As if she had no worries, Hazel walked to the front of the Great Hall like she was some sort of princess. A bit of laughter and whispered conversations started up immediately. She cringed at the ragged hat that was placed on her head when she sat on the stool.

_'You're going to have to let me in a bit, Miss. Otherwise I won't be able to sort you,'_ the Sorting Hat said telepathically. Though it was an odd form of telepathy in feeling.

"Slytherin!" the hat crowed instantly as she lowered her mental defenses slightly. _'And have a good day, Girl-That-Lived.'_

Hazel frowned at that last parting comment as the hat was thankfully removed from her head. She walked sedately over to her new seat, sitting next to a slightly older girl that shook her hand in greeting. The rest of the school seemed shocked, but the Slytherins seemed quite pleased.

Hazel started fretting with the sleeve of her _black_ robe again. How plebeian.

The Slytherins were not sure _what_ to make of her actions and form though.

"Harry Potter?" a platinum-blonde boy asked her in confusion.

"It's actually Hazel Frost now, but yes." She held her hand out for a quick shake.

"Draco Malfoy. That's an interesting disguise," the young wizard.

"It's not a disguise. Though it _is_ a bit complicated."

"Move over, Hazel." Vi squeezed in next to her.

"You haven't been sorted," one of the new Slytherins said in shock.

"Won't be either. Don't worry about it."

The Slytherins shared a couple of quick glances, then shrugged it off. The rest of the sorting proceeded smoothly. Hazel was quite thrilled to find out that the Granger girl had ended up in Gryffindor. She probably would not have to deal with her at all.

Supper was more heavy than she liked, though the quality was decent. Alas, it was not up to Malfoy's standards as he was quite willing to explain in detail. "They need to retrain their House Elves," he explained to the Hazel, thinking he was scoring points with her.

Dumbledore stood up up and made some announcements. There were some uneasy chuckles from his comment of a bloody death if you explored the third floor.

Pansy Parkinson sighed at that. "Brilliant and powerful, but quite mad."

"Is that normal?" Hazel asked curiously.

"I think he's powerful enough that people accept his eccentricities," Draco explained with an indelicate snort. He obviously did not agree with that.

That was when she felt a minor twinge from her forehead and the indistinct impression that someone was trying to read her mind. She turned and looked towards the head table, seeing one of the teachers glaring at her as his turbaned companion chatted with him.

Finally, after the very strange school song, they were dismissed.

"Harry Potter," the tall, sallow-cheeked man called out as he loomed over the blonde witch. It was the same man who had been staring at her earlier.

"I prefer Hazel Frost, sir," she said politely.

"Professor Dumbledore wishes to discuss matters with you. Follow." His sneer of disdain was the height of incivility. He turned, letting his cloak billow melodramatically as he moved through the crowd that parted for him quite quickly. Vi fell in behind them almost silently.

He led them up a few sets of stairs at a fast pace, then whispered something to a gargoyle that leaped out of the way to reveal a set of stairs that spun up into the darkness. With casual aplomb, he stepped on a step and was whisked out of sight.

The two girls followed with nearly the same grace and then through the open door. Dumbledore sat behind his desk that had a fair amount of paperwork that he was working on. Behind him and to the left of him a resplendent bird trilled a greeting as its long tail feathers ruffled out slightly.

"Ah, Miss Potter. I do appreciate you coming up so we could have this discussion," the bearded professor said with a kindly smile.

"Let us dispense with this childish antics first," the man who had led her up. He wand was up and a spell shouted into her face instantly, to no apparent affect.

Vi started to charge up her electrical attack before she was interrupted.

"Professor Snape, there is no need for that. Miss Potter is not under the affect of any spell or potion. I was quite intrigued that the Muggles can transplant a soul to another body, though I do not believe they did that part on purpose." Dumbledore's tone was politely interested.

"I see that you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, professor. Perhaps you can explain why you prefer to refer to my birth name that I have not used since my mother rescued me?" Hazel's tone was a bit harder at this point, even as Vi relaxed behind her from the apparent non-attack.

"It was never changed legally with the Ministry of Magic, so it is your name. I am sure that I can help you file the proper paperwork to get that changed," the old man said with a twinkle in his eye.

Snape looked like he had eaten something quite foul, but Hazel's gaze was unwavering on the older wizard.

"That does not explain how you know of my situation, professor."

"Ah, I do have to have a few secrets, though it is not really that mysterious. It took a while to trace you down. Your Mr. Essex had put his operation upon an old Roman burial site and that was enough to mask your location. And when I found you at your mother's place, I had been afraid that certain blood protections had failed." He had a grand smile under his mustache. "Imagine my surprise to find them quite well and blooming thanks to Ms. Frost's unorthodox method of becoming one of your mothers. A little warding on your home, a bit of discussion with some old acquaintances from the Second World War and you were settled into a suitable home. In fact, you were probably well served there, as your aunt's place would have not been a pleasant place to grow up as a witch or wizard."

"Harry Potter is the Girl-That-Lived?" Snape sputtered out as his face nearly turned an interesting shade of white.

"I prefer Hazel Frost, thank you Professor Snape. So you knew where I lived? Why did you not approach my mother then?" the Frost girl demanded.

"She is still a muggle and there are certain legal limitations in place. And really, she seemed to be doing a marvelous job by the time I tracked you down that Christmas. It was a bit tricky, too. Poor Logan nearly skewered me. He didn't even remember me from that atrocious bit of fighting near Treblinka. I thought he had been hit with a few too many memory charms, but he informed me that it was done with some brain-washing. Ah, that Muggles can do so many amazing, yet horrific things these days without magic."

"You know Wolverine from World War Two?" Vi exclaimed in surprise.

"Ah, yes. The young Muggle you brought along. And what is your name, young girl?" Dumbledore asked directly.

"Violette Nowak," the mutant said politely in reflex due to her training as Hazel's companion.

"Ah, yes. One of Hazel's friends from the Savage Land," the old wizard said as he stroked his beard. "Hmm. Let me check something." He waved his hand and a book flew from one of the many shelves as the portraits looked on. He had his nose in the book almost the moment it was in his hand.

"A Muggle?" Snape asked in a strangled tone.

"And not just a Muggle, but a Mutant... Wizard." Vi let a trickle of electricity flow from one gauntlet to the other.

They were interrupted before they could come to blows; Snape with his wand out and Vi's hands crackling with electricity. "Ah, perfect! While the situation is not _exactly _the same, it is close enough for our purposes. Professor Snape, let everyone know that Miss Nowak is Miss Frost's maid in waiting." Dumbledore looked quite pleased as he read the passage again from his own copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"A maid?" Vi asked in consternation.

"A cunning solution, headmaster," Hazel said with a smirk. "I take it that some nobles in old times had to be allowed their maids or manservants?"

"Exactly. It appears the Sorting Hat did a very good job this year. That reminds me. Professor Snape is the head of your house. He will be able to guide you to your room."

Snape took off in a ground eating pace without a by-your-leave, seeming incensed by the meeting. The two girl's had to rush to keep up as he led them down several flights of stairs to an engraved snake in an apparently random wall in the dungeons. Hazel tried to slip into Snape's mind carefully, only to be blocked thorougly though she felt some cracks due to his anger. She retreated instantly though, as it appeared he had a trained mind.

Snape turned and stared at Hazel with suspicion, but his penetrating mind met Hazel's mentat trained defenses; a standard for Mutants in the Savage Land, of course. "This is the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms. The password is Basilisk Venom."

The bricks moved out of the way as they entered past several of the older students that were sitting on the comfortable, green couches.

Snape had a smirk as he led them to a doorway. "The _girl's_ dormitory."

When Hazel stepped through without a flicker of a problem, he hid his dissapointment well. Her steps led her to one of the seven doors down the hallway that opened before her. Four faces looked up from some magazines they were reading as their conversation ground to an abrupt halt.

"Harry Potter?" Pansy Parkinson asked in shock. "I would have thought Hogwart's magic would see through your prank and poisoned you." She was looking at the interlocking snake laid out in the tiles.

"I prefer Hazel Sophia Frost, thank you. I haven't been a boy for almost ten years," the blonde-haired girl said without a trace of worry.

A girl with a upturned nose and stocky build looked confused. "Er, right. So Harry Potter is now Hazel Frost. Going to have to call you the Girl-That-Lived, I guess."

"I'm Violette Nowak. I'm Miss Frost's Maid in Waiting," Vi said cheekily as she waved gauntleted right hand.

The stocky girl blinked. "Millicent Bullistrode."

"So we get the Girl-That-Lived as a dorm mate. This should be quite different. Poor Draco, to miss his place as your best friend," a fairly plain looking girl said with a giggle. Her hair was a dish-water brown but she had a set of startling blue eyes. "I'm Tracey Davis." She flinched as Pansy glared at her.

"And I am Daphne Greengrass," the last, dark-haired girl said. Her almost black eyes were taking in the silky black robes that Hazel was wearing. "Your trunk is at the last bed. I'm not sure where your 'maid' is supposed to sleep." She did not seem to think much of that concept.

"Do you know how to undo that spell that 'Deputy Headmistress McGonnagal' did to my poor robes?" the scion of the Frost line asked.

The girls all shared an uncomfortable glance. Daphne spoked up first with, "It probably will wear off. I doubt she would bother working a permanent transfiguration. In fact, doesn't it look a little faded out already?"

Vi nodded. "Yeah, it's more of a charcoal gray now."


	2. Hogwarts Proper

**Hogwarts: New School Year.**

* * *

The first day of her new school was quite different for Hazel Sophia Frost. Vi's wind-up clock that jarred the whole dorm to action.

"Damn it," the purple-haired mutant said as she rolled out of their shared bed. Hopefully she would actually have her own bed tonight. She pushed herself through the slot in the canopy and out into the cool room. Luckily there were throw rugs of green, black and white beneath her feet. "Come on, Miss Frost. It's time to get up."

"Unlike you, I've been up for a bit," came the reply from the bed. And it was true. Unfortunately for her, one of the other girls had woken up and sent out a very loud mental yell in complaint of the cold water for her shower. The poorly blocked psychic shout had done the job of an alarm clock.

"That's a horrible, horrible thing," Pansy called out as she exited her bed, letting its canopy curtains drop behind her.

"It was the only one I could find that wasn't electronic or even electric at the shop," Vi admitted. "That's going to be annoying. The mutant looked at the dim light filtering through high up, curtained windows. It seemed to be undulating slightly. "Are we under water here?"

"That's right," Millicent called out as she slipped on a heavy bathrobe over her stocky frame. "Not a problem for you, is it?"

"Not really."

They continued their chat as they worked their way through the bathing room for the girl's dorm. Soon they were back in their rooms putting on their uniforms.

"You really only brought white robes? Merlin, you are trying to get into fights with the professors, aren't you?" Tracey said with a shake of her head as she slipped on her black robes over her white blouse and black skirt. Her green tie was settled perfectly on her collar.

"I think I'll have to find that coloring spell that McGonnagal used," Hazel groused.

"You are lucky. White is the easiest to charm. And silk helps," Daphne said with an admiring look at the expensive outfit. "Madam Malkin did a wonderful job. I'll have to introduce you to my own seamstress. She can do very amazing things with silk and brocade."

Millicent blinked as she noticed for just a second a very famous scar on Hazel's forehead. "I thought you said you got a new, clowned body just after You-Know-Who killed your birth parents?"

"Cloned, Miss Bullistrode. And the 'curse' that was used must be something into the soul, I guess. My mother said it actually will return no matter how I try. Which did not stop me from trying later. I had an agonizing headache for days after that." Hazel shrugged at that as she set herself in her perfectly white robes and polished shoes. The only bit of color on her was her badge and green neck-tie.

"Oh, that's what that was. I thought your mother was going to fillet his, er, him." Vi tried to recover from her almost misstep of mentioning her mother's mental powers. "So, do any of you know how to get back to the Great Hall?"

"I'm just going to follow one of the other girls when they leave," Tracey said as she waved at the slightly open door. "Like that one." Following true to her words, she took off after the older Slytherin that was just leaving.

With squawks of indignation for the lack of warning, all of the girls finished up and followed Tracey. The trip through the gloomy dungeon was only broken by minimal conversation as the girls tried to memorize the path. The low number of torches made that hard.

"I'm going to be lost for at least a week. It wouldn't hurt them to light up more torches," Pansy complained as they finally came out onto the anteroom that led to the Great Hall.

"There are only fifty-two torches back to our room, so that should not be too hard," Hazel replied in a smug tone.

Daphne frowned in thought. "That's a trick. Use the torches to figure out how to get back? Wonder why I hadn't thought of that?"

The other girls snickered, but held them back from making an unkind comment. So Daphne merely glared back them.

Hazel's green eyes studied the other, older students at their table. "How many of you can cast a charm or transfiguration on my robes to turn them temporarily black?" she asked down the table as she sat at the lowest end.

Most of them ignored her, but two girls and one boy nodded to them.

"It's not that complicated, though you probably won't get the hang of that charm until third year," the youngest said.

"How much for you to tutor me in the spell and counter-spell?" Hazel started filling her plate.

The other two girls just shook their heads and went back to their conversation.

"Ten galleons. Fifteen if you want me to spell and unspell your robes for you," he replied. His black hair was perfectly coiffed and his smile quite sunny.

"Thirteen," she countered.

"Fourteen galleons and six sickles," was his quick response. It was obvious he would have be charming her clothes also.

"Fourteen and two sickles. Deal?" Hazel finished.

"I would have fought to go a bit higher, but it is impeding my food intake. Deal. I'm Robert Baron, by the way. The first thing you will need to learn is a swish-flick-hook-jab." He carefully went through with exaggerated motions so she could watch. "See?"

"I do," the Girl-That-Lived said. She reached under her cloak to pull out the galleons and sickles from her purse. "Here. I want you to charm them before you or I leave the table this morning."

"I take it you are not hurting for money," Daphne asked as she poured her pumpkin juice. Once she was done, she passed it to Vi who filled Hazel's cup and then her own.

"You could say that," she replied in false modesty. It was obvious to her that she was the only 'real' wealth in their dorm.

"Mail's here!" Millicent called out as the first owls came through opening far up in the great hall.

An owl landed in front of Daphne with a small package while a very dark brown owl landed in front of Hazel and stuck out its left claw which a letter was attached to.

"A letter? You must have gotten tons before," Pansy said before taking a big bite of her toast.

"Not by owl. I think I've only gotten three owls in my life," she replied absently as she removed the letter. "Sirius Black?"

That information surprised all of the girls within listening distance. No letters at all? They shared a quick glance with each other. Millicent and Pansy leaned together to whisper to each other. They had actually sent a very nice set of chocolates to the Boy-That-Lived last year on his birthday. So what had happened?

"Oh. Him," Daphne said as she thoughtlessly answered. "He's not considered too well in most pure-blooded society. He's a total embarrassment to the families. I can't believe he reinstated that muggle lover-"

Hazel slapped her hand down in a move that was quite startling. "I would ask you _very_ carefully think about finishing that statement when considering that Lilly Potter was muggle born and the mother that raised me is, by your terms, a muggle." Her green eyes stared very coldly at Daphne.

She just tilted her head slightly at Hazel. "I see."

The Girl-That-Lived turned back to her letter.

"Hey, Mandy!" Vi called out as she waved to the other girl.

The young Ravenclaw looked torn, then after a moment was pushed by two of the girls her age over towards their table. "Hello, Violette." She looked at Hazel for a long moment, then spoke in a rush. "Are you really Harry Potter cursed to be a girl?" She was horribly blushing by the end of it.

"I was not cursed, but that is fairly close. I prefer Hazel, even if my name hasn't been legally changed her in England." Hazel was still reading her letter. "I have another godfather? Why am I always the last one to learn of these things?"

"Because your mother is too busy to focus on your old life before she rescued you," Vi replied as she happy scooped up some scrambled eggs onto her plate next to her pile of bacon.

"Well, that is very different, even for wizards. I'll see you around, Hazel," Mandy said and then went back to her seat over the objections of her Ravenclaw friends.

That was when Professor Snape appeared at the end of the table. All the tables had filled up in the Great Hall and it was quite noisy. That seemed to be much to his displeasure. He started handing out schedules. He handed the final one to Hazel.

"Really, Miss Potter. Are you trying to be expelled on your first day?" the potion master drawled.

"No, sir. It's rather an affection I picked up from my mother," the young mutant said in a pleasant tone.

"Well, as I would rather that you not cost our house the Cup nor alienate the _entire_ house with your antics, I will bespell a few of your robes black." His wand was out almost faster than the eye could follow.

The witches could barely see the fast motions as he charmed her robes black. Hazel has been watching closely and noted that he had used the described wand motions, just like Robert had mentioned. "Very nice," she faux-admitted. "Thank you very much, Professor Snape."

With a sniff, he turned and walked off at a fast pace, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically.

Hazel started to fuss with the edge of her sleeves. "And don't think you are getting off, Mr. Baron. I expect my robes to be white outside of class."

"Yes, mistress!" he replied cheekily after he quickly swallowed.

* * *

"Looks like you have Defense Against the 'Dark Arts' first," Vi noted as she read Hazel's schedule.

"This is really just a politically correct way to refer to the Dark Arts," Draco was explaining to his two book-end cohorts at the back of the class. They were sitting under the skeleton of a dragon.

Goyle frowned, his face somehow managing to look even more dull. "But it's protecting-"

"Even the darkest wizard has to protect himself against other dark wizards," the scion of Malfoy said as he cut off his croney. "Ah, Hazel... Frost was it?"

"Mr. Malfoy," she replied politely as she sat down while Vi sat behind her on the back row. The ugly emotions she was feeling off of him was an immediate turn off. He was the sort that wanted to degrade and control, though he was only feeling around the edges of that within him.

Draco was just starting to open his mouth again when Professor Quirrell scuttled into the room, sending a wave of garlic smell behind him.

And Hazel had a very unusual experience of a poorly taught lesson. Quirrell seemed almost unable to even confront his student, much to Draco, Pansy and Daphne's entertainment. He would not have lasted a week under her mother.

Midway during the first lesson, while Quirrell was writing on the board, something quite odd happened. Her scar shrieked in pain as something dark seemed to impinge upon her mind for the briefest moments. Hazel slammed her mental shields up as she sat up in her desk. _'Somone intruded in my mind,'_ she hissed mentally to Vi who was starting to come out of her doze of boredom. She had forgotten her own schoolwork back at the dorm.

Hazel's awakening mind lashed out a bit haphazardly, checking each of the student in quick order, then finally the teacher. The only one that she could not read was Quirrell, surprisingly, but his mind did not feel the same as that presence. So as far as she could tell, it was not anyone within the classroom.

She would only later discover that this was not true, much to her dismay. She just did not realize what was hiding and who it was hiding in.

* * *

The other teachers she had this week were much better, other than the History of Magic teacher that was taught by a deadly boring ghost. Professor Flitwick nearly fell out of his chair when he was calling role and got to her. Professor Sprout was a kindly sort, though Hazel thought she was terribly low class with her shabby and slightly ragged clothes smudged with dirt from the greenhouses. Professor McGonnagal ran a very tight class. Not even Draco stepped out of line there, as he privately admitted to his cronies that Transfiguration really could be that dangerous. Daphne was the first person to actually transfigure a matchstick into a needle and earned her two house points, though Hazel was not far behind. Thursday night was astronomy, where Hazel just had to shake her head about how behind the witch was. Did they not know this was the space age?

Finally, Friday rolled around and the sleepy Slytherin First Years all made it to breakfast without a hassle. Even Crabbe and Goyle managed to not get lost. The girls were all talking over the latest Teen Witch magazine and the hunky French seeker that was listed as the most kissable wizard of the year (some things seemed to be more universal than others, it appeared) when an owl landed in front of her.

"Another letter from your godfather?" Vi asked as she happily filled up her plate. They were going to use this afternoon to get in some 'Danger Room' type training. They had heard that there were some 'monsters' within the Forbidden Woods. Giant spiders almost made it sound like back home in the Savage Land.

"No, this is from that groundskeeper Hagrid. Says he was a friend of the family and would like to invite me out for tea. He even wrote up a charming little map to his... hut." Hazel was not quite sure what to make of this. Hagrid definitely was not Haze's 'sort' of people.

There was a suddenly sound of some man yelling very loudly out in the hall and then the sound of a muted explosion.

"What the hell?" Vi said as she zipped to her feet from the end of the bench, hands crackling with electricity.

The Great Hall doors opened to admit a slightly singed girl that was wearing a Hufflepuff tie and prefect badge on her robes. She had the most outrageous bubblegum pink hair that Vi was immediately jealous of. With a shake of her hair, she stomped over to the Slytherin's table.

"Wotcher, Harriet?" the girl said. "The supreme head-ass of the Black Family wants me to introduce myself and let you know that if you need something, you make sure to let me or him know. So I'm letting you know."

"Another howler, Nymph?" an older boy yelled from the Hufflepuff table.

"It's Tonks!" she shouted back, much to the amusement of most everyone including herself. She turned back to the white-robed girl. "Only my father gets to call me Nymphradora."

"Of course, prefect," Hazel replied. "Is Mr. Black really that bad?"

"Well, he's serious about it. Get it?" Tonks ignored the groans at her pun and kept on going. "I'll be around. And if you need something from Hogsmeade, I'll see about hooking you up."

Vi sat back down. "That explains everything about you, Hazel."

"I'm sorry? What are you referring to, Vi?" the scion of the Frost fortunes asked.

"You magic users are all _nuts._"

Tracy just giggled. "You just now figured that out? That's pretty common knowledge. Too bad common sense isn't." That set off all the girls at the end of the table.

After their breakfast, they all trooped down to the dungeons, where Professor Snape's potions class was sheduled. It was actually quite cool and Hazel was seriously thinking about making sure to wear a sweater for the next time. Winter would probably be even colder, she thought glumly. Vi sat in the back, pulling out a romance novel to pass her time. Not being a student was turning out to be incredibly boring.

The Gryffindors trooped in loudly, forced to the front by the early arriving Slytherins who took most of the back seats. The door opened slightly and then slammed shut behind the professor, quite startling all the student. He started an engaging monologue, extolling potions while simultaneously denigrating every single student.

He was starting to call roll when there was a knocking at the door. Snape gestured at the door so that it opened. "Mr. Weasley. Two points from Gryffindor for your tardiness. Failing to learn the layout of the school is no excuse."

There were snickers from both houses present.

"Harry Potter, you are quite the enigma now, are you not?" Snape was staring at her with his very dark eyes for a long moment, almost as if in challenge. "But that will not get you a free pass here."

Hazel just tilted her head slightly for her response.

Then he turned to an unfortunate boy sitting to her left among the Gryffindors. It was the same boy that had lost his toad on the Hogwart's Express. Neville Longbottom answered exactly one of three question right, as he knew that Wolfsbane was and its alternate names.

He rounded on them after thoroughly ignoring Hermione, who was desperately trying to show that she was not a dunderhead by raising her hand to try to answer. "Well, what are you waiting for? You should be taking notes," the professor called out. His wand was out as he walked up and then along his slate board. With a tap, a recipe appeared on the board.

Their first potion... Hazel thought it quite boring as she cut and prepared her portions. With a frown, she realized that her use of a knife was fairly lackluster. The cuts were neither fine nor even. It looked so easy when the cook did it.

About halfway through the class, Neville's potion started to bubble faster and faster. Hazel barely caught a hint of glee from the potion's professor before it exploded, covering Neville and spattering Hazel and Ron Weasley, who was sitting on the other side of the boy.

"Minus five points for destroying your potion and cauldron, Longbottom-? And what did you do to Frost? She's turned into a statue!" Snape thundered at the stricken boy. "Get to Madam Pomphrey immediately."

"I think I'd better go too, professor," Ron said as he quickly dabbed some smears off his face as they started to cause boils. He tried to help the chubby boy up. Neville was in too much pain as his face was covered.

"I am not in need of medical assistance, Professor Snape. I just reacted to defend myself." Hazel started to carefully wipe the blotches of puss-making potion off her face with the edge of her robes. Her body and hair had turned crystal of a pale greenish-lavender color. "This is my mutation."

"You can turn into crystal?" Draco exclaimed in shock. All this week he had been watching her closely. The articles in the Daily Prophet had been entertaining to read also.

"Diamond, actually. It's very handy when you are about to take some damage. Professor, my potion is contanimated and I should probably change out of these robes before resuming my human form," she explained in a cold tone.

Snape studied her for only a second, then turned to her potion. "Yes. Do make sure to not let anyone contanimate your potion in the future." With a lazy wave of his wand, her cauldron was suddenly perfectly empty. "You will have no score."

Hazel then gathered all of her items sedately and then left the class with Violette trailing behind her.

"Miss Frost, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist that you sit away from Longbottom in the future. Or at least to one side of the classroom with someone competent as your partner. I don't want to have to explain to your mother that you got hurt like that in one of your classes." Vi's demeanor was sober and proper, much different than her normal behavoir. She sounded older than her thirteen years. "And I'd hate to have to hurt him for being a dumb klutz."

"We'll see. I'll make sure not to sit next to him again."

After a quick change, Hazel decided she had enough of school so headed out to Hagrid's hut. She knocked primely on the door to the large, wood building as a dog started barking in a hoarse, low tone.

"Down Fang. Down boy," the deep voice of Hagrid boomed from within. The door opened to show the bleary eyed man who looked down at the white robed girl and her mutant companion in her muggle atire. "Er, yer a bit early."

"I'm sorry, but I figure I would come over after class. One of our classmates had an accident and so I had to change. My potion, being ruined, made my decision to not go back to watch everyone else make their potions a done deal." She shrugged.

"That ken happen. Seems ta be always someone dat messes 'em up. I weren't the best potion student mahself, you know. Come in. I'll put a pot on." He stepped back from the door and put some wood in the coals fo the fireplace, stoking the fire as he slide a pot onto a hook.

The burly dog whined at Vi and scurried under the bed.

"Fang's a coward, you know. Usually more friendly. So you are interested in your parents? I knew James, of course. Had to chase him and his friends out of the Forbidden Forest more than once," the gigantic man said.

"Really. I know so little of my father and first mother. Sounds like he was a character," Hazel said politely. She was not overly interested in her father though. "What of my mother?" Hazel discretely wormed a tendril of her awareness into him as he talked, which was remarkably easy. He was quite a trusting fellow.

"Ah didn't really know her that closely while at Hogwarts. She spent a lot of time inside studying. I really got to know 'er after, when she joined the fight against You-Know-Who. Made her and James a target. Eventually led ta him killing them," he continued he lost himself to his memories.

The young telepath almost let her shock show on her face. Voldemort had come to her parent's house not to kill her father and mother, but to kill _her_. Dumbledore had told Hagrid a long time ago after was sent to recover Harry after the attack. Hagrid just did not have the heart to tell 'her' that. "Really?" she said in as calm a matter as possible, but off enough that Vi looked over in a surprise. "So did my mother have any friends at Hogwarts that you know of?"

"Only Professor Snape, but I think they may of had a falling out during school," Hagrid replied carefully. The words Mudblood seared ugly through his mind and old anger at the young man with greasy black hair.

"Say, do you mind if I ask a personal question?" Vi called out from where she was leaning against the wall. She accepted her cup of tea and rock cake from the huge man. "You're bigger than almost anyone I've met. Do you happen to be a mutant?"

The incredibly hairy man blinked in confusion. "A wot?"

Hazel had to hide a snort as the thought of his mother drifted through his mind.

"Er, no. Actually, I'm half-giant." He seemed abashed.

"No worries, Hagrid. Violette and I are mutants so we were just curious. You are almost as big as Juggernaut. I'm sure that my turning to diamond is going to be all over the school in just a few hours," the blonde mutant witch explained languidly.

The half-giant nodded as he smiled. "That's interestin'." His gaze passed over his morning paper and the article on the cover as he picked up his cup. A simple glee at stopping the theft of the Philosopher's Stone drifted through his mind as the Goblins investigated the break in at the Gringott's bank. Then he took a sip.

Hazel blinked at that. "Well, we should be off. I appreciate the tea. If you can remember anyone else that might now my parents, let me know."

"I'm sure Sirius and Lupin would know better than me, but I'll see what I can do," he promised heartfeltedly.

Hazel led the pair out the hut and made sure it was closed. With a small suggestion to ignore them walking into the woods, she led them under the dark boughs. "So, that was interesting," Hazel said as she hopped over a low root.

"Poked around in the big guys brain? Should have expected that, I suppose." Vi was already starting to tense and loosen muscle in preperation for a fight, just like she had been taught.

"Why yes, I did. It seems that the maniac that killed James and Lilly Potter killed them to _get_ to me." She let Vi digest that for a long second. She discarded bringing up the philospher's stone, as it seemed unrelated to anything. She might go see 'Fluffy' that was guarding the third floor on her own.

"Well, head in the game. Let's see if we can get into a friendly little fight with some spiders now," the electrokinetic said with a grin as she started zipping around between trees.

Hazel scrunched up her face, showing the most emotion all day. "I hate 'Danger Room' training that mother insists on."

"Anti-mutant bigots don't care if you're young. Except that you haven't had any children yet," Vi quoted from Magneto.

"Damn flat-" Hazel shook her head. "Speaking of... our potion's professor is a bigot against muggle-born..."

"He is? Actually, wouldn't surprise me. He's a right jerk."

"And used to be a friend with my first mother. So there may be a love triangle thing going on. I'm really wondering if this was the smartest thing to do," she admitted. But magic itself was very wonderful.

"Give it a bit longer. At least you haven't been kidnapped this year."

* * *

"So what did you find out?" Vi finally asked as she played with some of her purple hair. She was probably going to have to dye her hair again.

"They are semi-sentient and crave fresh, warm blood. And we do not want to go in there. You know how the older kids said they thought there was a dozen or so of them?" Hazel said as sweat beaded of her chilled brow. This was taxing her emerging telepathy to its utmost to read the spider's mind that was across the small clearing. It was almost invisible up in the tree, but not to a telepath. "They are off by more than a factor. There's over two hundred of them. Most the size of car tires. Though a good quarter of them are much larger."

"Are you shitting me?" When Vi realized that Hazel was totally serious, she starting pulling her back the way they came. "Can you reach your mother?"

"No, she left for America on Wednesday. And I can't reach nearly that far." Hazel stopped. "Get out of here. I'll turn to diamond and they won't be able to hurt me."

"Bodyguard, remember. I'll be lucky to be able to drool on my straight-jacket if I leave," Vi called back as they kept moving. "Besides, they might be able to web you up and you can't keep that form for more than twenty minutes at a time."

"Stupid pre-pubescent body," the telepathic witch said. "I think... I hear a mental voice that way. One that isn't worried about things in the forest."

Ten minutes of scrabbling and they came closer to a figure looking across a stream.

"Wow! A centaur!" Vi squealed in amazement. "And a hunk, too."

Hazel just rolled her eyes. "Excuse me, sir."

"Hogwarts students in the woods?" the black-maned centaur asked angrily. "There are dangerous creatures."

"Why, yes, there are. We were just losing the many, many spiders that infest this area," the telepath admitted. The spider was starting to retreat quickly. Its fear of the centaurs arrows was quite loud in its mind.

"Yes, that's why I'm up at this misbegotten hour." The centaur seemed quite upset. "We watch for Hagrid's pets so they do not come closer to the herd."

"Those are Hagrid's _pets_?" Vi asked in consternation. "Is he nuts?"

"He is unworried, as little threatens him," he said dryly. "You should return to your herd, younglings. And do not stray into the woods until you can defend yourself better."

"Thank you, sir." Hazel nodded her head graciously. There was no reason to be impolite.

They managed to make it back to Hogwarts just in time for lunch. The other girls seemed mostly oblivious, but Tracey noted that Hazel had a small green smear on her pristine, white outfit.

"Is there a problem?" Hazel asked in her best snooty tone. She took her cup of black tea that she had just filled.

"You two went for a walk?" Tracey asked in a low tone as she put some peas on her plate.

"Yes, it is terribly nice outside and I really did not feel like coming back to class. Longbottom managed to get my grade for the assignment ruined. So why come back?"

Tracey nodded. Her forehead crinkled slightly in thought. "Say, Hazel?"

"Yes?" she drawled out carefully.

"How did you get tea? I've only seen the teacher drink anything but pumpkin juice or milk."

"Ah, there's a trick. You can tap your cup while saying what you want to drink and the servers will make it appear. Only tea, milk, juices and water, but I'm not really a fan of pumpkin juice. I had to do something to defend my waistline," she said. It had been something she had picked up from the weakest of the minds at the professors tables. The half-mauled man that taught Care for Creatures really liked his tea.

"Do you mind if I fill up? I was just drinking pumpkin juice because everyone else was," she admitted.

"I miss cola," Vi lamented. "Noriko says I shouldn't drink it, but I want something _cold_ with serious amounts of caffeine." Her mind was filling with thoughts of different colas or sodas in wistful hope.

"Is Noriko your mother?" Millicent asked carefully. She seemed oddly discomfited by asking a question.

"She's my original, actually. Like Miss Frost here, I'm a clone. I got a bit of tinkering done so I don't look the same. And Miss Frost went to bat to protect me when most of our... group wanted me to disappear. Including Noriko."

"How many clones do you know?" Pansy asked in consternation. Then her eyes narrowed in sudden thought as she considered the concept more fully.

"A few," the Girl-That-Lived admitted evasively.

"Budge over," a voice called out right next to Hazel.

"Miss Tonks?" Hazel asked as all the girls of her year were staring at the platinum-blonde girl as she almost fumbled sitting down.

"I figured I had a few minutes, so would chat. Your mum is also Emma Frost? The CEO of Frost Industries? That's seriously loaded? I didn't think she was a witch though." Tonks snagged a glass and filled it with juice.

"She's not. Why would you think she was?"

"Oh, just all the stories in the Daily Prophet. They range from Professor Dumbledore having done this to protect you to your new mother kidnapping you and doing some sort of ritual to make you her daughter." Tonks put a cheeky smile on her face. "Inquiring minds want to know!"

Vi and Tracey both started giggling at that.

"She rescued what she thought was a mutant. Then she took a few questionable actions to make me her daughter to protect herself and me. Then she raised me as one of her daughters." Hazel had a cold smile on her face. "I've never had a need that was not filled. My mother tries very hard to be there for me and my sisters, even though she is not the best mother."

"Well, bully for her. My mother knows a bit about raising a problem child." Tonks grinned at their giggles.

"Say, Tonks?" Vi asked from the other side of Hazel as she refilled her glass with pumpkin juice. "Is there a spell for changing your hair? Every time I've seen you, you have a different color."

"There's magic, but transfiguring any part of your body is always tricky and not recommended. You can get stuck if you aren't careful. _I_ can change my appearance because I'm a metamorphagus." Tonks looked over at Daphne's gasp of shock. "I'm still learning how to get the most out of it, that's why I keep changing my hair."

"That's the only way?" the purple-haired girl asked.

"There's some potions and more advanced spells. But for something like hair, probably better to do it the muggle way. Not everyone is born with the right magical talent." Tonks decided a momentary showcase of her ability was warranted. With a shake of her hair it went from long blonde to short purple that was just as vivid as Vi's hair.

All the Slytherin First Year girls were terribly impressed and started talking about what they would do if they had that ability. It ranged from just enhancing their hair by Daphne and Pansy (no split ends!) to ones like Tracey and Vi who would have a different color each day of the week. Though that might have been a bit of false bravado on Tracey's part. Millicent thought it would be neat to try all those different styles to see which one best suited yourself. Hazel got from her a sense of desperately trying to correct her appearance.

"So how does one test themselves for this ability?" Hazel asked the 7th year prefect. She frowned to herself as she bounced off weak mental shields. After all the mental strain today, she did not think she could bypass that barrier too easily. Maybe later.

"Usually accidentally. It takes a lot of hard work to control too. And the guys," Tonks was explaining, turning to glare at the nearest boys, "they usually want you to sexify yourself for their fantasies."

"Men are pigs. Some are just better at hiding it than others," Hazel said in agreement. Not that women were much better at times, she privately admitted.

"We're just being true to ourselves, ladies," Robert called back rauciously with a big grin. "Don't think I don't know what you talk about when you don't think us boys are around. Right scary it is."

"How would you know?" Goyle asked in puzzlement.

"Three sisters that liked to torment me."

* * *

That night, Hazel lay in bed as she felt a strong, mental presence trying to reach out to her. _'Mother?'_ she called out.

_'Hello, Hazel. How are things this weekend?'_ the telepath said from her office at Xavier's Institute for Gifted.

_'Could be better, I suppose. I found out something. It appears Voldemort was not there to kill all of the Potters, but just one toddler.' _She let her mother go over that part. _'School is interesting, though I have a lot of free time. I've been helping Vi do her own school work. You should be receiving her first set of papers for grading in the post soon.'_

Emma leaned forward as she looked over the sunset across the pool of the school yard. _'I'm glad she is taking things somewhat seriously. She has not gotten into any troubles?'_

_'I haven't really seen her do anything, so far. She's been oddly subdued.'_

_'She has been releasing the pent up charge inside her, correct?' _The White Queen was quite particular on all of her students. Violette had to release the electricity she absorbed or she became unbalanced. Even more so than Noriko Ashida did when she was not regulating her powers.

Hazel's mouth turned down in a frown. _'I have not see her actually zap something or do more than charge up herself to attack someone.'_

_'I thought you said nothing had happened?'_ her mother asked in a disapproving tone.

As her eyes were closed, Hazel went without rolling her eyes. _'Nothing did happen. I managed to head off the confrontations. A couple of the professors thought I was pulling a prank on them by being a girl. So they tried a counter-charm. Speaking of that unpleasant man, it seems one of the professors knew my mother in school. And does not appear to like me. Luckily, I'm in his house so he does not deduct house points.'_

_'What is his name? It might give the private investigator another angle to dig up information.'_

_'His name is Professor Snape. Mother?'_

'_I'm just covering all of my bases, daughter. I'd rather that Dumbledore not try to pull any legal actions that I am unprepared for.' _Her smile was mirthless as she watched the students playing basketball outside. _'I might let you meet your aunt, but I am taking action to document her worthlessness as a parent if that bearded goat tries to take you from me.'_

_'He's a strange man. He knew where I lived and my name, but did not change the name on my letter because I did not get my name legally changed. He says he sent you some forms and pointers on how to go about that in their Ministry of Magic.'_

_'Yes, I received those papers. My Wizarding lawyer is already processing the documents. If he wants that bonus I promised him, he had better complete that by Monday. I need to let you go, Hazel. Do be a darling and try to not come to any harm.' _Emma turned to the door as she swiveled her chair. "Come in."

In her dorm room, Hazel let loose a heavy sigh. Her mother was hiding things again. She had not even gotten a chance to ask about Laurel and the quintuplets.

"Hello, girls." The White Queen looked at the triplet clones and scowled at Laura. "This is a family meeting. You are neither wanted, nor invited."

"It's about Hazel. So I would like to hear how she is doing." The cloned daughter of Wolverine narrowed her eyes at the headmistress. "Please."

"Fine. Esme? Has Hazel's psychosis weakened at all?" Emma asked.

"No. She is still projecting mental illusions of our dead sisters. We still think that we should just rip the delusion out of her mind." The three telepaths seemed totally unconcerned with the ethics of the matter. "Though we strangely still feel some emotion for her."

"That is surprising. And her latching onto Laura? Is she going to make Violette one of 'my daughters' in her head?"

"Why don't you just read her mind?" Minde and Phoebe said simultaneously.

"Speak your own words. We are trying to impress some individuality on your sense of self, girls." Emma trailed her white-gloved finger along her chin slowly. "Hazel is very sensitive to my intrusions. You three can get into her head in a way I can't."

"She only trusts you. You do not want to hurt that." Celeste was staring at the White Queen in an almost challenge.

"That would indicate that I care for her." Her lips curled in an almost smile.

"You do. You do everything for her. This plan to let her learn magic is silly. Salem is right here in the United States," Phoebe said slightly uncertainly. "But she wanted to know about her other mother."

"So you gave it to her. Like you do everything." That was all three clones.

Laura finally spoke. "Like you don't for them."

"I am still getting used to having so many daughters," Emma pointed out in a cold tone.

"Huh. Yet you never do things with the Cuckoos like you do with Hazel." Laura turned and left the office.

"She's right. We are done for now," the triplets said, turning and following her out the door.

The White Queen hid her dismay behind her hard facade and impenetrable mental shields. It only hurt because it was true. Perhaps she should try and take them shopping. But not tomorrow. In a few days.

It was not their fault that they were created from her without her consent. And damn that thing for daring to challenge her like that. Without even consciously realizing it, Emma had turned diamond hard and flipped over her table with a shout of rage.

Damn that girl.

* * *

Afterword.

I'll be taking things in a slightly different canon-direction (Joe, I believe, said this was originally based on Ultimate X-Men, but there are major discrepancies beyond the 'ultimized' OCs.) I'll be using 616 for the most part as I know it better, hence some of the changes. The Cuckoos are the surviving triplets, but Hazel is suppressing that information in her head in a 'not-good' manner. Laura is not actually a Frost, but because of Hazel's issues with the deaths of Sophe and Esme, Hazel tends to attach herself to any 'clones' that appear (much to Emma's frustration). She is also projecting a mental illusion of the two dead Cuckoos to herself. Violette Nowak is actually a younger (in body age) clone of Noriko Ashida, slightly altered. She is technically part of Weapon X28, an attempt to synergize different mutants and their powers to create an anti-mutant weapon (Violette was created to be a gestalt. She is able to take in electrical energy and turn it into mutant empowering energies thanks to cyber implants, but does not have great control.)

The reference to the Savage Land is a reality hiccup caused by "A Wizard Did It with a Cosmic Cube" so that we can have the canon 616 Mr. Sinister and the Savage Land mention. Hogwarts Year One is just before House of M. (Thanks to Fanboyimusprime for that idea of a "Wizard did it with a Cosmic Cube.")

Yes, this does technically make Hazel crazy, but she has family trying to help her get past her issues. She is a Frost, after all.


End file.
